


Get Me Out of My Mind

by seventhTense



Category: Persona 5
Genre: A Goro for all seasons, Exhibitionism, Frustrated Goro, Horny Goro, M/M, Manic Goro, Pseudo-Blackmail, Slight sadism/masochism dynamic, Some set up and then just a whole lot of smut, Strangers-to-Sex-Friends-to-Friends-to-sort-of-lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 02:13:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21859861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seventhTense/pseuds/seventhTense
Summary: Goro Akechi, pride of Shujin Academy, revered Student Body President, shows up one day in social outcast Akira Kurusu's classroom, requesting his presence at a private meeting between the two of them.Though 'private' wouldn't be the word that Akira would use to describe all the 'meetings' they have afterwards...
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 9
Kudos: 244





	Get Me Out of My Mind

**Author's Note:**

> Heya- if the tags and summary didn't say it blatantly enough, this is an Exhibitionism fic, more or less- no actual fucking in the middle of the road, but that's still definitely the kinky, sexy theme of the piece! If that makes you uncomfortable, be warned! If that makes you... well, the opposite of uncomfortable, I guess, then enjoy!

The cafe was a nice one- too nice, honestly, for Akira’s tastes. It was open-air, after a fashion, not a fully outdoors cafe, but more a large room that just had no solid wall separating it from the outside. It was filled with two dozen or so wood tables, fancy ones with four legs and a pure white tablecloth draped cockily over the top, as if daring any of the cafe’s customers to spill their drinks on it. The cafe was its own building, a rarity for the packed streets of Tokyo, a single, squat one-story on the corner of a big public square. It had two walls missing- presumably replaced by big metal shutters the owners could pull down after closing for the night, and the back of the cafe was taken up by a long counter where customers could order, a glass-enclosed display case for all the baked goods and cakes and ice creams the cafe sold, and, on the wall behind the counter itself, big, swinging double doors leading to the kitchen where they made all their own foods and the more complicated drinks.

Akira had already dealt with that part of the Fancy Cafe Experience, ordering two plain coffees while Akechi had found them a table closer to the middle of the seating area. Currently, the two boys were sitting across from each other, sipping at their pretty decent, if absurdly expensive cuppas.

Akechi looked uncomfortable.

Not because of any social issues he might have at being seen in public with Akira- well, okay, maybe a little because of that, Akira wagered. Akechi was, after all, the star student of their school, winner of several national academic competitions, and a pretty popular influencer online. Akira, meanwhile, was a total social pariah, ignored and whispered about throughout the halls of Shujin, assumed by most to be a violent criminal, or scheming gang leader, or even sometimes rumored to have connections to the local mafia itself.

In truth, of course, he was just a high schooler with some truly atrocious luck, but truth rarely did anything to change a rumor.

So there was certainly reason for Akechi to be looking this uncomfortable, in regards to him sharing a table with Akira. They had chosen this cafe, after all, from how many engagements Akechi had gotten the last time he had been here and posted a couple selfies and pictures of his meal to his Instagram. It was a spot that he could very likely be recognized at, and just as likely be judged for sitting with someone who apparently just radiated a rebellious, dangerous aura, from what people had told Akira throughout his life.

He had reason to be uncomfortable with Akira’s presence there, but Akira knew that it was only part of the reason Akechi looked so nervous. The real reason... well. 

It was almost too delicious to be true.

Akira took another sip out of the fine porcelain cup their coffee had been served in before resting it back down on its little saucer. He poked Akechi’s leg under the table with the toe of his sneakers. “So, what do you think?”

Akechi _jumped_ at the nudge to his leg, almost spilling some of his coffee. Akira smirked. The older boy collected himself almost in an instant, though, and smiled pleasantly at Akira, though if Akira looked closely enough, and he did, he could see a little wobbliness around the edges of the smile. “Pardon, Kurusu-kun?”

“What do you think?” Akira repeated. When Akechi frowned a little in confusion, Akira gestured clarifyingly at his cup. “About the coffee.”

Akechi’s eyes lit up in understanding, and he nodded. “Ah, yes. It’s... quite good, honestly. Too often, places like this tend to skimp on the quality of their roasts, or simply are run by those with too much fine taste in architecture and design and too little taste in, well, what’s tasty.” He did his cute little laugh at his own line, and Akira rolled his eyes at the pure cheese of the pun. Akechi continued. “But this is quite the pleasant surprise. I wouldn’t say that I’d go here specifically for the coffee, but this is quite a decent blend.”

Akira nodded. “That’s basically what I was thinking, too.” His senpai smiled a bit more at that, more genuinely, certainly, and Akira smiled back, though for different reasons. The more and more he learned about Akechi, the more he was endlessly amused at just how thirsty the boy was, specifically in this situation for approval from those close to him. 

He let his smile twitch up a little into a smirk, thinking to himself that it was about time to play with some of the other thirsts he had discovered Akechi to have. “I don’t remember, did you have coffee the last time you were here- oh, well, I guess I can check myself, huh.” He was already halfway through getting his phone out and swiping it open.

“Hm? Oh, I suppose so-” Akechi’s eyes widened suddenly as he realized what Akira was about to do, and he leaned forwards towards him, waving his hand a little. “Oh, wait, I- you don’t have to do tha-”

Akechi cut himself off and snapped his head down low, facing the table, as Akira finished tapping open his phone and swiping at the app displayed there. He let his eyes roam slowly over Akechi’s hunched-over form, drinking in everything he could see- the way the older boy was gripping his mug, far tighter than before, tight enough so that the leather of his gloves squeaked in protest. The way his feet planted themselves firmly onto the floor beneath them as soon as Akira had swiped across the screen, Akechi trying desperately to ground himself. The little catch in Akechi’s breathing, the way that, if Akira listened closely enough and tuned out the rest of the ambient noise from the cafe, he could hear it a little labored, a little noisy.

He reached over and patted Akechi’s head, asking softly “Hey, you okay, Senpai?”

Akechi’s head shot up, anger etched clearly on his face. “Am I _okay-_ ”

Akira swiped at his phone screen again, smiling serenely, and Akechi buckled over again, letting go of his mug with one hand to claw ineffectively at the table, the other hand shooting up to cover his mouth.

Soft, warm laughter spilled quietly from Akira, earning him a glare from beneath the bangs hanging over Akechi’s face. The smirk on his Akira’s face and the heat coiling in his gut only grew at the glare, and he leaned forwards across the table to murmur low to Akechi. “Easy now, Akechi-senpai. You wouldn’t want any of these fine, upstanding people all around us to realize just how unimaginably horny you are right now, would you?”

Akechi was still glaring furiously at Akira, but from this close, the dark-haired boy could see a hint of pleading coloring the whole expression.

\--

It would be a lie to say that it started inconspicuously enough. In fact, it all started about as conspicuously as possible.

Goro Akechi had always been one for theatrics, after all, or so his reputation at Shujin Academy went.

It had been the last class of the day, one on classic Japanese literature that Akira had managed to breeze through pretty easily so far. He had always loved to read, it being one of the few pleasures he had back in his home town- his parents were incredibly stuffy people, so old novels and short stories were pretty much the only form of entertainment avaliable around the Kurusu household. 

Close to the end of the class, a polite but insistent knock had sounded at the classroom door, cutting Akira’s teacher off mid-lecture, and Akechi had entered the room, an embarrassed smile already brightening his cute face.

Akira was aware that he was not the only one that found Akechi’s face cute, his smiles cuter. Almost the whole school did- even the kids who weren’t into guys could recognize how aesthetically pleasing pretty much everything about Akechi was. There certainly was no shortage of opportunities to take in his adorable little features, too, what with Goro being both the school’s overall golden boy, and the student body president. At assemblies, at school events, over the intercom and on many of the posters throughout the school, some aspect of Akechi was never too far away.

When Akira first transferred to Shujin, he found it annoying, almost offensive how bloated this guy’s ego must be to show himself off everywhere. But as the months passed, and Akira’s residual frustration from how things had played out in his hometown faded, and, of course, the more he saw Akechi and realized that the guy was probably just taking advantage of his natural good looks for the sake of the many, many responsibilities he had throughout the school, the more Akira began to appreciate, then respect, then pine for the older boy.

So, when Akechi interrupted their class, Akira’s first reaction, and the reaction of most of the other kids there, most likely, was excitement. Wherever Akechi went, something interesting almost always followed. 

Akechi cleared his throat, waved a little to gain the attention of the teacher who was already staring tiredly at him. “Apologies for the interruption, Nakamura-sensei. I’m afraid I have to borrow one of your students, likely for the rest of class.”

Nakamura grunted, not really caring either way, though the lack of effort on the teacher’s part didn’t do anything to dampen Akechi’s sparkly demeanor. He bowed his head, chirping out a pleased “Thank you, sir.”

He looked across the class, and when his eyes met Akira, everything changed. His face darkened, his attitude grew so serious, so displeased that the entire classroom seemed to get several degrees cooler, the lights several shades dimmer. The pure distaste that radiated out from Akechi sent several other students sitting between him and Akira visibly shuddering. With a bit of a sneer to his lips, he barked out commandingly “Kurusu Akira. Follow me.”

He turned around and marched out the classroom without another word. 

All eyes swerved from watching the upperclassman to instead stare directly at Akira, who, for the record, felt like he was About To Be Murdered. The confused, upset stares and raucous whispers that followed him as he gathered up his stuff quietly and made his way out of the classroom only accentuated the feeling. He imagined this was what it felt like to walk through a crowd gathered to watch your beheading.

When he finally got outside the classroom, he looked around to find Akechi waiting for him a few feet away, standing perfectly straight next to the wall, arms crossed, toe tapping impatiently. He saw Akira and glared at him again, though with less intensity this time, then gestured at Akira to follow. “Come on. We’re going to the student council room.”

Akira followed obediently. He didn’t show any external signs of fear, barely having been able to express outwards emotion at all since the trauma he went through the previous year, but he was still terrified inside. It was a long walk to the student council room, too, up a couple floors and a ways down the hall. When they arrived, Akechi pulled out a ring of keys and unlocked the door, then swung it open, standing there like an angry doorman, waiting for Akira to enter. 

He did so. He didn’t like it, but he did so. He liked even less the sound of Akechi walking in and slamming the door shut behind them. He liked least of all the sound of Akechi locking and deadbolting the door once it had closed.

Akira took in a deep breath, then turned to face his executioner.

Only to find him looking completely different, once again.

Seemingly as soon as the door closed, and there was no longer any chance of the two of them being seen, Akechi’s demeanor changed again- or rather the mask he wore publicly seemed to slip off, leaving a nervous-looking boy behind, softly sitting the ring of keys down on a table and toying idly with the hem of his sweatervest.

Akira was confused, and he cocked his head to the side, asking on instinct, “Uhm, are you alright, Akechi-senpai?”

That at least seemed to snap Akechi out of his daze. His proper posture returned, though he still had an aura of nervousness around him, and he met Akira’s eye, nodding jerkily. “What? Oh, yes, I’m fine, Kurusu-kun. Please, have a seat.”

Akechi gestured to a chair already set up across from the desk at the head of the room- apparently Akechi’s personal desk. Akira guessed that the staff schleffed so much of their own work off at the President’s feet that they felt he needed an actual desk to work through it all. Ridiculous.

He sat down, though, and Akechi took the seat across from him. He folded his hands, then unfolded them, then folded them again, before finally just sighing and leaning back in his chair, putting his hands in his lap. “First of all, I apologize for calling you here the way I did. I’m sure you’ll understand soon enough, but certain appearances had to be constructed, so as to insure the other students didn’t get the wrong idea.” He sighed again, sounding a little disgusted. “Or the right idea, I suppose.”

Akira blinked, confused. He was about to ask what Akechi was talking about, but Akechi continued speaking just as he opened his mouth. “You’re probably wondering what I’m going on about. My apologies.” Akechi bowed his head a little bit, bit his lip nervously, then locked gazes with Akira. “I am in need of your help- specifically _your_ help. There isn’t a single other student in this school that I could go to besides you, nor anyone beyond the school walls.”

The bafflement on Akira’s face only deepened, which, considering how much Akira struggled with expressing his feelings physically, probably only made him look a normal amount of confused. Akechi barreled on regardless, gaze sliding off to the side, growing thoughtful, his voice growing emotionless, analytical. “Believe me, if I had another option, I would have spared you this, but, well. You are a social outcast, from what I can tell, you have no friends, not even any casual acquaintances, and you come from a town very far removed from Tokyo, meaning that not only are you without any familial connections, but you are likely to not have anyone in the city who would know you from your youth. You are, in every sense of the word, totally isolated.”

Wow. Okay. 

Beyond just hurting a hell of a lot to hear spelled out so cleanly and clearly, that was... pretty ominous, overall. “Uh, it kinda sounds like you’re targeting me for human trafficking, Senpai,” Akira tried to joke, because it _absolutely sounded exactly like that,_ and maybe if Akira joked about it directly-

Akechi’s eyes blew wide and he waved his hands frantically. “What? Oh, heavens no- that must have sounded terrible, my apologies,” he looked genuinely contrite, flustered by the way his words had come across, which was a big relief to Akira, to say the least. “I simply meant that, as a loner, it’s perhaps more safe for me to come to you with this sort of request, since there’s practically no possibility whatsoever that you’d be believed if you tried to tell anyone else about it.” Ah, well, there went the meagre few seconds of comfort Akira had felt. “Moreso, you’re considered a delinquent, so in all likelihood, you already have some practice at all this...”

Akira was confused, offended, and more than a little annoyed at this point. He sighed, leaned forwards and asked tiredly, “Akechi-senpai, not to be rude, but could you get to the point?”

The older boy blinked, then nodded. “Yes, of course. My apologies, again.” He still seemed nervous, though, fingers now tapping against the wood of his desk as he started again. “As I’m sure you can imagine, I am... frequently under a great deal of stress. Beyond the basic necessities of maintaining perfect grades in my schoolwork and applying for the best colleges I can afford, I must maintain a high level of social engagement, both in person here at school, and online on all of my various social media accounts. I must keep up a very specific personality, a very specific, constantly cheerful, charming, relaxed, intelligent set of mannerisms in all parts of my life, save for the scant few hours I am left to eat and sleep in my own apartment. It... wears on me.”

Akechi crossed his arms as he spoke, picking at the threads of his clothes. Akira wanted to tell Akechi that he didn’t, strictly speaking, _have_ to maintain all of that, but something about the way his senpai was acting made Akira think that there was some external pressure that Akechi wasn’t mentioning that forced him to go through all of this, something serious, so he let it go. Instead, Akira replied calmly “You never seem to show even a hint of how much it affects you, too, or I guess you don’t really feel safe to, unless you’re around someone that nobody else cares about.” He smiled, self-deprecatingly, and Akechi winced, though didn’t deny it. “That must hurt.”

“...yes, it does,” he nodded, sighing. Silence hung between them for a few seconds, until Akechi shook his head and collected himself. “But in the end, I suppose, that is why I called you here. I began by saying how stressful this all is, and of course there are many venues avaliable for one to relieve said stress. Athletic activities, meditation, indulging in good food, and even...” Akechi blushed, looking away and mumbling, just barely loud enough for Akira to hear. “...M-masturbation.”

Akira’s eyes went wide again at that last, and he felt his jaw slacken enough for his lips to part. Oh god. Oh boy. “I’m... I’m sorry?”

Akechi didn’t seem to hear him, too preoccupied with fighting against his own obvious flustered state so he could continue with his speach. “The issue is that, recently, specifically these past two months, none of my typical methods of stress relief have been working! I can bike as far as I wish, use every last minute of my spare time at one of the rock climbing centers nearby, do slow breathing and yoga until my arms fall off, and I’ll still feel just as wound up as when I began!” He was getting _very_ impassioned now, an angry, growling timbre to his voice that Akira had never heard before but very much enjoyed starting to show in Akechi’s voice as he grew more frantic. “I can’t overeat, of course, that would be incredibly obvious no matter how tight of a corset I purchased, and I absolutely refuse to debase myself with drugs, I _refuse_ to sink that low! I, haha...”

Akechi was slumped over the desk now, hands carding through his hair as he went on, a slightly deranged smile on his lips. Akira was, with good reason, worried. “I even went so far as to go and buy several s-sex toys, of all sorts- online of course, I’m not some _fucking_ idiot who would go and risk being carded or caught dead in some sick, disgusting sex shop. It took far too long to be shipped here, but with some false names, a P.O. box I rented, and a card not linked to my name, I did it! And do you know what, Kurusu-kun? After a few weeks even that wasn’t _god damned enough!_ ”

His fists _slammed_ onto the table, hard enough to knock over a container of pens and sudden enough to make Akira jump in his seat. Akechi didn’t seem to notice, eyes seeming to swirl as he ranted on. “No matter how big the dildo I bought, how expensive and _‘intense,’_ ” he physically fingerquoted as he spit out the word, disgusted, “of a massager I could find, how tight it would stroke around my dick, how roughly I’d shove something inside of me, I still felt horribly, _revoltingly_ tense just a few minutes later!” He laughed, cackled even, high and manic, then almost instantly quieted, his voice a ragged growl. “I felt like I was going to lose my mind. Nothing worked. Nothing would stop this weight in my chest.”

“And then... I did it outdoors, and for the first time in _years_ , I felt free.”

Akira was absolutely slack-jawed at this point. The substance of what Akechi was saying was enough to shock him stupid, but the _way_ he was telling Akira all of this... this guy was really, truly unstable. It made sense, Akira guessed, in the small part of his mind that could still process analytical thought. Akechi was, for all intents and purposes, just as alone as Akira was. He had praise and accolades coming in from every corner, but from what he told Akira, it was all a front, a mask carved specifically to garner acceptance and approval. Akechi had nowhere to just be himself, no one he felt truly safe with. That, at least, Akira could empathize with. He knew first hand exactly what that kind of emotional isolation could do to a person’s head, to their heart.

The other stuff, though. 

Chirst.

There was a few beats of silence before Akechi spoke again. “It wasn’t anything too drastic, too risky. It was late at night, well past midnight, and I had been trying for hours to get even the slightest bit of release. Nothing was working. I was... haha, I was truly starting to lose it. Had I not eventually succeeded, I... I don’t know what I would have done that night.” He swallowed thickly, and Akira’s worry multiplied in size several times. “In my hazy state, desperate for something, anything to work, I found myself on the small balcony attached to my apartment, seven stories above the streets of Tokyo. Perhaps I thought a change of scenery would work for me, I don’t know. But as soon as I stepped outside, bent over the railing, and started thrusting the biggest vibrator I had into me... the sound of the city hit me all at once. Cars driving along the nearby highway, shouted voices in the distance, TVs blaring and laughter ringing out of open windows... the feel of _life_ surrounding me seemed to... awaken something in me” He swallowed again, but not from nervousness this time. Akechi seemed almost... almost aroused just talking about this. “I came harder that night than I ever had before in my life. I’m sure someone must have called a cop at how loud I screamed. It was... Kurusu-kun, it was unlike anything else.”

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, then met Akira’s eyes for the first time since he started ranting. He was red in the face, clearly embarrassed to hell, but there was determination shining strong in the look he gave Akira. “That was three days ago. I’ve done a great deal of thinking since then, of course. Continuing to repeat that exact move would be incredibly irresponsible- I’d likely get evicted, if not arrested. But... well, after I... found release, I was unable to move a muscle for almost an hour. The effect was incredibly... it was incredible. But, as I said, it left me stunned, motionless, after the deed was done.Were I to find somewhere else to do this sort of thing, in a public location, I’d likely end up completely vulnerable for a dangerous amount of time afterwards, particularly dangerous if I were somewhere well-concealed and alone. It would be all too easy for someone to abduct me, or otherwise harm me, and nobody would be any the wiser.”

Akira was starting to put some pieces together, and the answers he was coming up with were... a lot. Oh boy. “Uhm, Senpai, are you asking what I think you’re asking?”

Akechi’s gaze grew more serious, more determined, if possible. “I can’t go back to trying endlessly to find a method of stress relief that works for me, Kurusu-kun. I refuse. Now that I’ve discovered that this works... that... that activities of a sexual nature in a public setting work for me, I will not let this go. But, as I said, it would be far too dangerous to do alone. I won’t abandon this, but I won’t risk my life for it either. So... yes.”

He got up from his seat, walked slowly around the desk to stand by Akira, looking down on him, looking _very_ intimidating indeed. “I want you to help me get off in public settings, Kurusu-kun. In whatever manner I ask of you.”

Akira’s face paled. This... in any other situation, he’d be happy to become this intimate with someone he liked as much as he liked Akechi, but... “Are... are you... going to blackmail me into having sex with you?” That wasn’t how Akira wanted this to happen at all. 

Thankfully, it wasn’t what Akechi wanted either. Again, his eyes grew wide and shocked, his hands doing that adorable little flail. “What? God no, I wouldn’t- I couldn’t do something like that! I just meant... helping me get to where I need to go, being a lookout for me, helping me get back home, that sort of thing.” Akechi looked extremely nervous now, the bravado from earlier having totally fled him at Akira’s question.

Akira sighed in relief. Those were all things he could do. It’d be more than a little awkward, but it was leagues better than he had imagined- little more than a weird, perverted kind of chauffer/bodyguard service, really. Passively, Akira realized that, while the situation he was in was definitely deserving of all the worrying and fear he’d gone through since Akechi called for him, he probably assumed far too easily that people more powerful than him, like Akechi, would horribly abuse him. Eh, something for the years of therapy he’d start at some point after he graduated. 

He looked back up at Akechi and nodded, smiling softly. “I think I can do that, Akechi-senpai.”

The relief that washed over Akechi’s features was immense. “Good, thank goodness.” He brushed his hair out of his face with one hand, taking a deep breath in relief, before collecting himself enough to look sternly at Akira again. “I hope I don’t need to stress that you will be doing exactly as I say, when I say it. Fall out of line once, and, well...” He smiled, fake-sweetly, incredibly threateningly. “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you how drastically someone in my position could ruin the life of someone in your position, if you crossed me.”

Akira rolled his eyes, waving pacifyingly at Akechi. He was intimidating, sure, but after everything he had shared with Akira, after seeing how easily Akechi’s intimidating front buckled and folded at each of Akira’s voiced fears, he saw Akechi less as some intimidatingly pretty authority figure and more as just a messed-up kid like him, doing whatever he could for whatever happiness he could find. “You don’t need to threaten me, Akechi-senpai, I’ve got your back.”

Akechi seemed taken aback by that, perhaps not expecting Akira to sound so... sincere, so genuinely loyal. “A-ah, I see. Well, good then. I... suppose that’s all I had wanted to say?”

Akira nodded, standing up and taking out his phone. “Sure. Here, I’ll give you my number- I don’t really have anything going on... uh, ever, so just call or text me whenever, and I’ll meet up with you.” He smirked a little as he handed it over to Akechi. “That is, unless you wanted to get started here and now.”

He took Akira’s phone, but Akechi blinked in surprise, and a little bit of alarm at Akira’s words. “I- what? What do you mean?”

“Well,” He took a peek at the time displayed in the corner of Akechi’s phone, as Akechi handed it over in turn for Akira to program his number in. “Classes are about to let out for the day. People will be everywhere. If we hurry, I’m sure we could find some concealed place where you’d be able to hear them without being seen, or at least concealed enough that I’d be able to scare off anyone who got too close.”

Akechi just stared at Akira, a little surprised, then a lot suspicious as his thoughts processed. “Why are you so... eager to get started, Kurusu-kun?”

Akira just rolled his eyes as he finished entering in his contact information, handed the phone back to Akechi. “Relax, Senpai. I thought you’d be pretty stressed out from having to say all this to someone for the first time, and this is kind of the perfect opportunity for a mostly safe test-run of sorts, for all of this.” He toyed with his hair a little, nervous, but deciding that Akechi deserved some honesty from Akira too, after all that. “And... I guess it’s nice to feel relied on, for once. Can’t blame a guy for enjoying that, can you?”

He looked nervously back at Akechi, genuinely worried that he might indeed be able to blame a guy for that, but the older boy just looked relieved. “Ah, no, that’s quite understandable... thoughtful of you, actually. Uhm...” He looked nervous, handing Akira’s phone back to him. Akira guessed he was debating internally whether to actually do this or not.

Surprisingly, he nodded, and pretty quickly too. “That... sounds good, yes.” He grew thoughtful again, putting his fingers to his chin cutely as he thought. “As to the where, however-”

Blaring loud throughout the school, the bell signaling the end of the school day rang out from the school’s speakers. Loudly, Akechi swore “Fuck!” Then grabbed Akira’s hand, and dashed out of the room, tossing the locks on the student council room door open faster than Akira would have thought possible, and sprinting down the hallway as soon as the door was open.

The two boys panted as they ran, Akechi whispering sharply “Damn it all, if we’re seen before we find a hiding spot, this isn’t going to work- ugh, fuck it!”

Akechi slid to a sudden stop, then roughly shouldered a nearby door open- one leading to the boy’s restrooms, Akira noted, before being yanked through the doors, into the room, and pulled roughly into a stall-

The same stall Akechi had gotten into. A beat passed, then two, then Akechi seemed to realize the mistake he had made in his panic and made to shove Akira out again-

-but the doors to the bathroom opened, and the room was suddenly flooded with schoolboys, gossiping and complaining as they made their ways to the open stalls, urinals, or just the sinks, to talk and mess with their hair. 

Akira tried a nervous smile at Akechi, who just glared back before running his hands across his face. He bit his lip, considering for a few moments, then gestured roughly for Akira to turn around and face the door. Akira blushed, not having thought that Akechi wo _uld still want to go through with this while Akira was there with him!_ But, memories from just a handful of minutes ago flashed back through Akira’s mind, of how bold Akechi must be at his core to have gone down this path, much less tell Akira about it, so maybe he shouldn’t have been that surprised. He gave Akechi an embarrassed little thumbs up, then sighed and shook his head at how dorky that was, and just turned around so he couldn’t see Akechi, or anything else really, with the stall door directly in front of his face, only now able to hear what was going on around him. 

There was just enough space in the stall for Akechi to sit down and pull down his pants and underwear without brushing against Akira’s legs- though considering that Akira didn’t hear the clack of Akechi’s shoes on the tile floor as he moved about, it was possible Akechi had drawn his feet up onto the seat with him. A smart move- Akira would be able to call out that the stall was occupied, and make sure no one kicked the door in, but, well if anyone had looked and seen two sets of feet in the stall, it would have been game over.

Behind him, Akira could tell that Akechi was having some trouble, the older boy grunting and shifting around on the toilet seat, and not in a sexual way, or at least Akira hoped that the angry grunting and grumbling wasn’t what Akechi sounded like when he was getting himself off. Eventually, Akechi just sighed loudly, Akira holding back the instinct to turn around and ask if Akechi needed help, and after some more rustling and another embarrassed sigh, Akechi’s pants and underwear were draped over Akira’s shoulder.

Akira stiffened at that, both in posture and in his pants. He hadn’t expected to be touched, let alone have anything of Akechi’s touch him, but he also hadn’t expected to have Akechi’s _goddamn underwear draped on his shoulder, right next to his face!_

He didn’t go so far as to turn his head and sniff the damn things, Akira wasn’t that much of a shameless pervert, but, well, it was inevitable that he’d smell something from them, and he closed his eyes and focused on the scent of sweat, sharp and musky, and the bitter, familiar tang of the scent of pre-come. 

His focus was so much on the smell that was starting to surround his head that Akira missed the start of the soft, wet sounds starting behind him, but when he did recognize them, he stiffened all the more, nervous and incredibly aroused. Faintly, he could hear Akechi panting slightly, breath heavy and wet around the edges. If Akira concentrated, he could make out the soft but unmistakable slapping of skin-on-skin, Akechi’s hand bouncing against his crotch as he stroked himself, the pace picking up as the seconds ticked by.

Most shocking and most arousing of all, though, was a noise Akira was only familiar with from porn; the wet, almost gross sounds of what had to be fingers sliding slickly in and out of Akechi’s ass. Akira supposed that was to be expected, Akechi had said after all that he came so hard after fucking himself on a vibrator, and damn Akira’s pants were getting _uncomfortably_ tight now, but it still surprised Akira to hear the actual sound of Akechi doing something so lewd so close by. 

When the soft, wet noises behind him were accentuated with a sharp gasp, undoubtedly Akechi curling his fingers inside himself, pressing up against his prostate, Akira had to summon up every bit of self control he had to stop from twisting around to watch. This was absolutely the hottest thing that had ever happened to Akira, the hottest thing he had ever heard, and he wanted so fucking badly to see it too. But he made a promise- or, well, he hadn’t actually made a promise not to watch Akechi, but he made a promise in his head at least to watch out for the guy and not be creepy about this, so he held true to that, as tightly as he possibly could.

It wasn’t easy. The more Akechi went on, the more noises Akira could hear, quiet enough that they’d be inaudible beyond the walls of the stall, certainly over the loud talking and guffawing of the boys around them, but for Akira, barely three feet away, they were the loudest goddamn sounds in the world. The slap of Akechi’s hand, the squelch of his fingers thrusting faster and faster inside of him, the hot, quick breaths, the soft moans growing ever louder as Akechi got closer and closer to release-

Wait, what? Oh no, oh no-

Akechi seemed unable to quiet himself, and Akira could tell instinctively that the older boy was close, and the closer he got, the more he moaned, and hte more he moaned, the louder he got, and Akechi had said that when he came before he had screamed so loudly people would have thought there was a murder, and they were gonna be found out, and someone was going to hear, and-

Akechi started to let out a loud, high keen of pleasure, and acting purely on instinct, Akira whirled around and lunged forwards to slap a hand over Akechi’s mouth, muffling the cry just enough so that they wouldn’t be heard-

-only for a hot, wet, liquidy something to shoot up against Akira’s chin as soon as he did so. He gasped in shock at the sensation, only for another shot to hit him, this time a fair amount going right into his mouth, and again, and again, stopping only as Akira realized what had just happened.

He locked eyes with Akechi, mind blank. Akechi looked shocked, wild. 

On instinct, Akira closed his mouth and swallowed. Akechi’s eyes shot even wider, a soft moan vibrating against Akira’s hand, a final shot of cum splashing against Akira’s chin, and half out of shock, Akira gasped and buckled forwards slightly as he came in his pants.

Pleasure rocked Akira like the tremors of an earthquake, crashing through him over and over as he rode out his orgasm- silent, as he had taught himself long ago, but his face more expressive than it had been in ages, mouth wide, eyes twisted shut, tongue lolling out slightly as the pleasure coursed through him.

His eyes shot open as soon as it finished, terrified of what he might see on Akechi’s face.

But the older boy was gazing at Akira with eyes wide, looking transfixed, almost hypnotized by what he had seen. Akira’s hand was still covering his mouth, but before Akira could let go, Akechi reached up with the hand that he’d been jerking himself off with. Akira’s eyes jolted down to follow its movements, seeing beneath it Akechi’s other fingers still buried inside himself, and feeling another tremor of pleasure shock through him at the sight. The fingers trailing up towards Akira’s face, bare, Akechi having very wisely removed his gloves before he had started, traced over his throat, and up to his cum-soaked chin. Delicately, Akechi wiped the cum off of Akira, as much as three fingers could get off, and seemed about to draw them back, to wipe them off on some toilet paper-

-then changed his mind and slid the fingers slowly towards Akira’s lips. Half on instinct, half from the lust still running through him, Akira opened them, letting the fingers slide in, caress his tongue, before closing his lips around them and sucking them clean.

He felt Akechi gasp, moan a little at the sensation, and a few minutes passed as they repeated the motions, Akechi wiping Akira clean, Akira sucking the cum off Akechi’s fingers lustily, hungrily. When Akira’s face was as clean as they could make it, Akira sank down to his knees, taking his hand off of Akechi’s mouth with his last conscious thought before his self-control completely dissipated, now driven purely by his subconscious and his desire, and started licking the rest of the come off Akechi, chasing the streaks and drops that had fallen against his thighs, his toned stomach and chest, and even licking it off of the tip of Akechi’s cock, which was quickly growing hard again.

A body slammed against the stall door, shocking them both out of the hazy moment they had sunken into. Sharply, a fearsome anger in his voice, Akechi barked out a rough-sounding “Occupied!”

His voice sounded nothing like it usually did, but it was apparently enough for whoever had hit their door to shuffle off with a grumbled “Alright, fine, don’t have to shout...”

Akechi’s gaze lowered again to meet Akira’s whose lips were still around the head of Akechi’s cock, having been suckling off the last drops of cum when they had been interrupted. Both sets of eyes were blown wide, uncertain of what to do. Whether to back off, or plunge forwards into whatever abyss awaited them once they had crossed this line.

Akechi’s cock twitched between Akira’s lips, and on instinct he opened them further, letting it slide another half-inch into his mouth.

Akechi’s gaze glazed over, and he reached up into Akira’s hair, tangling his fingers in the messy curls, and pushed his head down.

\--

Their activities escalated from there. Akira had feared, deeply, that after what their supposed ‘test run’ had turned into, that Akechi would want nothing more to do with him, that he’d be disgusted, and tell the entire school what had happened, but painting Akira as the instigator. Beyond the humiliation and probably jail time that would ensue, Akira didn’t think his heart would be able to take another rejection that extreme without shattering irreparably.

Thankfully, after they had finished, the bathroom cleared out of every other living soul, and the two boys cleaning themselves up as best they could, Akechi had just looked embarrassed, but given Akira a look that seemed equal parts anticipatory and excited, and said he’d be in touch soon before rushing out the building.

True to his word, barely a day went by since then without Akechi texting Akira the address of some park, or calling him, sounding halfway to cuming already, and just begging that he meet Akechi in a changing room or by the bushes next to the soccer yard after school the next day. 

They didn’t always do something together, when they met up. Sometimes things would go exactly as Akechi had originally proposed, Akira leaning against a streetlamp, eyes sharp for anyone who might walk close enough to notice Akechi, spread out on a blanket behind the nearby bushes, fucking himself on a vibrator. Other times, Akechi would be stuffed inside a tall closet inside a clubroom after school, Akira leaning his back against it, pretending to scroll aimlessly through his phone, when there’d be a quiet knock from inside. Akira would look around, and when he was sure nobody else was there, or if they were, they were otherwise occupied, then quickly open the door and step inside, Akechi quickly shoving him to his knees so he could fuck his face, or burying himself against Akira’s shoulder, grabbing at Akira’s hand and guiding it around behind him to show Akira how Akechi liked to be fingered best.

A month or so in, and they hadn’t actually fucked yet, nor had they kissed, but their relationship had definitely evolved past where it had began. Now, even when Akechi hadn’t requested Akira’s services, most days they’d spend time together after school, doing homework next to each other in the library, or chatting in the student council room after everyone else had left. Akechi said at some point he had set up some reason or other with the school staff and the other students he worked closely with, to explain away why he was spending so much time with someone so socially reviled, but with enough sex and talk and late-night texting about philosophy, or the nature of justice, or some old novel they both happened to read and love as kids, they both stopped caring about whether there was a plausible reason for them to hang out together pretty quickly.

And so it was that one Friday, hanging out together after school, Akira had shown Goro a certain toy he stumbled upon while scrolling through Amazon. One that might enable them to make their escapades even more public, while still remaining discreet, or at least discreet enough to not be noticed and arrested for public indecency.

And so it was that two days later, Akira and Akechi were sitting in one of the fanciest cafes in Tokyo, Akira slyly toying with the app on his phone that remotely controlled the intensity of the vibrator slid deep inside Akechi’s ass. 

Akira was discovering a taste for this kind of power over the other boy, and Akechi looked like he was about to lose his goddamn mind.

The app that controlled the vibrator was pretty simple, the UI designed to look pretty basic, so as to not call any attention to itself when used in public. It looked, more or less, like a somewhat fancy options menu for adjusting the sound levels on Akira’s phone, a dial that went from one to ten controlling the intensity of the vibrations, a slider similarly demarcated that controlled the speed that the tip of the dildo would move up and down, powered by a little motor to simulate the feeling of a dick thrusting inside of Akechi.

Right now both were on a solid seven out of ten, and Akechi was barely holding on. He had gotten better at keeping his voice down as time had passed and they had gotten more practice at it, but this was on an entirely new level. He could physically see the other people around him, and they could see him back, nobody realizing that he was getting remotely fucked, and was inching closer and closer to ruining his pants by the second.

Eventually, Akechi had to drop his head to the table, resting it on his arms, to hide the ruined, broken, incredibly lewd look on his face. Akira explained it to a passing waiter as Akechi’s stomach bothering him, and that it would pass soon, but because he was a little shit, he also turned the dials both up to eight while he did so, increasing the intensity even further while there was someone barely a foot or two away from poor, poor Akechi.

It only took a minute more for Akechi to look up from his hands, a desperate, pleading look in his eyes. Akira smiled wide, nodded, and, checking to make sure none of the staff or other patrons were looking their way, slipped quickly under the floor-length tablecloth that had been shielding Akechi’s otherwise blatantly obvious boner from public view. 

Akira paused once he slid all the way under, letting the fabric settle long enough so that there wasn’t any obvious, attention grabbing bustle of movement all at once. When he was certain he was safe, he crept forwards, crouched down as low as he could, until he was between Akechi’s eagerly spread legs, He ran his hands, warm and teasing, up and down Akechi’s thighs, before working at his belt and fly and pulling out his pre-cum soaked cock. 

With a cheery pat on the leg, Akira flicked the dials as high as they could go on his phone, and dove in to swallow Akechi down.

Akechi physically _bucked_ at the extreme intensity inside him, the table jumping as he did so, but Akira put firm, strong hands on his legs and held him down the best he could as he bobbed his head back and forth on Akechi’s shaft. Akira let his eyes flutter closed, roll back a bit in his head, having long since gotten addicted to the weight of Akechi on his tongue, the fullness of him in his mouth, the press of him against his throat, the willful fading of his gag reflex (he worked for two straight weeks to be able to do that), and the taste, and the smell, the pure Akechi that flooded through all his senses.

He took Akechi in as far as he possibly could, deliberately swallowed around him, stroking the head of Akechi’s cock with the movement of his muscles, and that was enough to send Akechi spilling pulse after pulse of cum down Akira’s throat, his entire body tensing up at the overwhelming power of his orgasm. Quickly, as the pulses of cum started to weaken and Akechi’s body started to de-tense, Akira flailed around until he found his phone and hit the large on/off button at the top of the screen. Akechi let out a weak, broken noise at the sudden stillness within him, and his posture deflated the rest of the way as the device shut down. Akira quickly slid off his dick and reorganized Akechi’s pants situation, wanting to get back out from under the table before Akechi slumped bonelessly off of his chair.

Peeking under the hem of the tablecloth, Akira managed to make it out without being seen, and slipped around the table to wrap an arm around Akechi’s shoulder. The older boy leaned hard against Akira, who chuckled and ruffled his hair. “Come on, let’s get you home,” he said warmly, a deep fondness for this man thrumming through him. Akira went for his wallet, to leave some yen behind on the table, then remembered that they had him pay up at the counter already. Ignoring any stares he got while doing so, Akira bent down and picked Goro up off of the chair, carrying him bridal-style out of the cafe, and back towards Goro’s apartment.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from the song Ready To Go, by Panic! at the Disco~
> 
> You know that meme, where an author leaves ao3 for half a year and comes back with a new kink in tow? This is that. I basically hurt my wrist in the Spring, got out of the habit of writing for several months, read some very good fics and doujin of this variety, had a very steamy late night burst of inspiration, and this is the result!
> 
> I don't have it fully written yet, but I actually intended at first for this to be the first chapter in a series that would get increasingly weird and more exhibitionism-y as it went along- there was magic and demons and all sorts of stuff! But, then I had a much better idea to make all that into its own thing, separate from this specific au. I've got a lot of different ideas for one-shots and short series on the backburner though, so if you liked this and want to see the aforementioned, more straight-up sex-in-public. demony, succubus-y series, let me know in the comments, and I'll write that one first!
> 
> I post fic every Thursday in some form or another; next week, on 12/26, I'll post the next chapter for my longfic Childhood Friends AU, [ Like The Moon, We Borrow Our Light, ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21227510) then the week after I'll post another one-shot, and so on and so forth. If you want more frequent updates on my writing progress (in fits and starts, I usually either tweet twice a week or like 50 times in a day), check out my twitter, [ @SevventhSteen! ](https://twitter.com/SevventhSteen)
> 
> Have a warm and snuggly winter week, or, if you're in a locale where its not particularly cold right now (lookin' at you, Australia), have as comfortable a week as you can, in all the best ways!


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